Campaign Trail: Seaborn and McShane
by LiterateSamwise
Summary: Sam Seaborn runs for President. With a cast of original and cannon characters they hit the campaign trail, hoping against hope to take the White House. *Finished*
1. 27 Days

Disclaimer: I don't own West Wing. That much is obvious. Because If I did, I'd be writing out episode storylines and not bothering with FF.Net.  
  
A/N: Some of the characters you don't recognize are real people or are based on real people though I won't say which as to protect those who are real. Yes, I'm in there. Somewhere... This being because I *do* hold political agendas and hope to make it to the White House someday. So... Vote for me.  
  
  
  
From the West Wing: Campaign Trail: Seaborn and McShane by Tatt Skywalker  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter One: 27 Days  
  
  
  
"Sam, you're going to run for President one day," President Bartlet said. "Don't be scared. You can do it. I believe in you."  
  
1:53 PM  
  
Sam Seaborn took a deep breath as he peered out from behind the stage. He exhailed and stood there, absorbing the light breeze greedily. One of the Secret Service men moved to stand beside him but Sam waved the man away and walked back from the edge of the stage. Bartlet had told him he'd run. And now, here he was: In Texas campaigning for the 2016 term. And for the end of October, 2015, it sure was hot.  
  
"Remind why we're here again," he said to his running mate, Senator Karol McShane, and wipped a bead of sweat away.  
  
She handed him a hand held electric fan. "Because you like Texas," she told him. "And it is big and has lots of people making it have a lot of electorial votes."  
  
"You two had better like Texas or I won't let you go out there," Texas Senator, Scott Wildman said as he walked up to them. "You don't campaigne in my state unless you like it."  
  
"Hey, Scotty!" Karol exclaimed. "I didn't know you were coming."  
  
Scott shrugged. "When I'm not on the Hill, I'm here at home. Came to give you some support."  
  
"How's Annie doing?" Karol asked him.  
  
"Wonderful," Scott said. "Those fertility treatments worked great. A little *too* great." Karol looked at him puzzled. Scott raised his right hand, all fingers pointing out. "Five heart beats, though three are really weak."  
  
Both Sam and Karol smiled. "That's great, Scott," Karol said.  
  
"Me and Mallory can sympathize," Sam said. "Multiples... you get through the terrible twos with all your hair and you're lucky as hell."  
  
Scott grinned. "Yes, and how is Rhode Island doing?"  
  
Karol glared at him. It was common knowledge that Senator McShane devoted everything to her state and to her country. "Rhode Island happens to be just fine," Karol told him with a glare.  
  
Scott walked over to look out on the large crowd assembled on the outskirts of the Texas capitol. Sam shook his head as one of his security men touched Scott's shoulder and asked him to step back. Scott walked back to them and said, "Where'd you get these guys, Sam?"  
  
"They're mail ordered," Sam joked.  
  
"I'd like to see that catalog," Scott commented.  
  
"Really? I've got a copy right here." Sam began to reach into his brief case and seemed to be fishing around for the item in question.  
  
The Texas senator's eyes grew wide.  
  
"I'm just kidding, Scott," he said and pulled his empty hand out of the brief cass.  
  
The three of them laughed.  
  
One of Scott's men came over to him and handed him a cell phone. "Hello?" he said into the phone. A moment later he excused himself and walked a little bit away from the democratic candidates.  
  
"What is he doing here?" Sam asked Karol as Scott walked away. "He's a Republican. What's got him here supporting us?"  
  
"Scott is *not* a Republican, he is whatever the hell he wants to be," Karol said. "It was on the Christmas card."  
  
Sam laughed then he remembered the cards that Scott and his wife had sent to all... well... almost all of Congress the previous December. "That wasn't a joke."  
  
Karol grinned.  
  
One of the Secret Service men walked over to Sam. "Senators?" he said. "You're clear to go on stage."  
  
Scott had handed the phone back too his man and was still standing where he'd been. Karol motioned for him to come on and walked over. "We're going on," she told him. "You coming or staying back here for moral support?"  
  
The Texas Senator gave a small smile. "I'm coming," he said. "I'm coming."  
  
Karol frowned. "What's wrong, Scotty?"  
  
"Four heart beats," he replied. "Come on."  
  
Scott bounded up the stairs and onto the stage. There was an eruption of clapping and cheering. For a Senator, Scott Wildman was remarkable well liked. Everyone knew that he wasn't a staller like the others in Congress.  
  
"Karol? What was that about?" Sam asked as they waited by the steps for Scott to introduce them.  
  
"One of the babies died," Karol answered.  
  
Sam nodded gravely. They heard Scott introduce them and they both put on big smiles and walked out on stage.  
  
//Here we go, Sam// Sam thought. //Thirty-two electorial votes. Don't make them hate you.//  
  
***  
  
5:38 PM  
  
"You wanted to be campaign manager Greg," Lisa Morris said and put a lanyard with "Vote Seaborn" slogans on it around his neck. "Good luck, Mr. Tymes."  
  
"I don't want this, Lisa!" he shouted as she left the office. "Lisa!"  
  
Greg fell backwards into his chair with a loud sigh. He did not need this. He was supposed to we writing President Schumer's good-bye speech. How would he do that *and* run the Maryland state campaign?  
  
He saw a young man walk by his office. "Sean!" Greg called. "Sean!"  
  
Sean Bower walked into the office. "Yeah?" he asked. "Hey, where'd Lisa go?"  
  
"Away," Greg answered. "Congrats, Seany boy. You're the new campaign manager."  
  
"WHAT! Mr. Tymes, no. I can't, sir," Sean pleaded. "I've got classes!"  
  
"I'll write you a note," Greg shouted as he ran out of the door.  
  
"Mr. Tymes!" Sean whined.  
  
The man sighed in relief as he left the building then muttered, "Poor kid."  
  
He started walking and saw her at the corner of 11th and M. Street trying to flag a cab. Greg started to run and got to the corner before any of the cabbies acknowledged her.  
  
"Lisa," he said. "We need to talk."  
  
"We *did* talk Greg," she growled.  
  
"Well, we need to talk again. 'Cause right now, Sean is running the Maryland campaign and all your work is probably about to go down the drain," Greg yelled.  
  
Lisa stared at him. "You made that poor kid take your job? Bumming off your responsiblities, Greg? I thought you were better than that."  
  
Greg was losing his patience. "Damnit Lisa!" he shouted. "Just... just come back. I won't get in your way. I swear."  
  
Lisa looked at him. "Good bye, Greg," she said and ran across the road. A taxi pulled up and she got in.  
  
Greg shook his head. He sure hoped that Seaborn and McShane were doing good elsewhere. Sean was a great kid but no leader and Greg didn't have time for this.  
  
He started walking down M. Street to gather his thoughts. Greg was glad Schumer's second term was up. He liked the guy and all but he insisted on making a speech everyday. After a while, Greg and his assistant, Eryk Ashcroft, had gotten smart and wrote them ahead of time so they could just pick a speech out of the filing cabinet that fit the occasion. And though Eryk wasn't coming back if Seaborn won, Greg was. His title, Director of Communications, was safe for atleast another four years. Good old Eryk was going back to Kansas to run for House Representitive.  
  
Suddenly, a taxi pulled up to Greg. The back window rolled down and Lisa's head popped out. "I hate you," she said.  
  
"We already determined that," he retorted.  
  
Lisa sighed. "I went and saw Sean trying to run the campaign," she continued. "How could you do that to him? Or the rest of them? The office is in discord and I swear I saw someone throw something."  
  
"Sounds like the kid is doing a good job," Greg said.  
  
"God, don't you give a damn about anything?" Lisa shouted.  
  
"Yeah," Greg answered. "About doing my job. Maybe you should do yours."  
  
Lisa sighed. "I'm going back on Monday."  
  
"It's Thursday," Greg said.  
  
"I'm taking a few days off."  
  
"Fine. Why are you telling me?" Greg asked. "*I'm* not."  
  
Lisa looked at him. "And why not?" she asked almost hurt.  
  
"I have stuff I need to do," Greg told her. "*I* have a *real* job. Yours will be gone in a months time."  
  
"Twenty-seven days," Lisa said automatically.  
  
Greg shook his head. "Whatever. I've got a speech to write." He walked off.  
  
Lisa sighed once more and rolled the window back up. Life was not good.  
  
***  
  
7:24 PM  
  
Jenna Clark collapsed into an oversided chair in the White House hallway. It suddenly struck her as odd, why would the chair even be there? But she discarded the thought. It was comfortable and she hadn't slept since Tuesday afternoon in the last White House press conference. Who cared that Schumer was going to give a speech? He was out of there. Jenna didn't have to worry about him again.  
  
"Comfortable?" someone asked.  
  
Jenna jumped. "Huh? What?" She looked around and saw the New York Times reporter, Bobby Towlhouse standing infront of her. She groaned. "What do you want, Bobby?"  
  
"Where'd you get back from? Still following the Seaborn campaign around?"  
  
"Austin," she said. "Wrote the entire article on the plane."  
  
Bobby laughed. "You had to write an article? Doesn't the Annapolis Capital have better things to do with it's star reporter."  
  
"Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere, Bobby boy," Jenna warned. "And I went because appearently the Capital thinks Seaborn is going to win."  
  
Bobby laughed again. "You're a riot, Jenna. Seaborn has a shot but the odds are all pointing at Billings."  
  
Jenna shrugged. "I'm voting Seaborn," she told him, starting to fall back into her sleepy stuper. "Now go away. This is the only time I have to sleep."  
  
"Why don't you go home, Jenna?" Bobby asked her. "The Capital can send someone else. And what are you even doing here?"  
  
"I don't know. Steve wanted to see me and he said to meet him here."  
  
"Speak of the Devil," Bobby said as he walked away. "At three o'clock."  
  
Jenna looked. Steven Paciorek was the chief editor for the Annaoplis Capital. "I didn't do anything wrong, Steve," Jenna called out to her boss.  
  
"I never said you did," Steve responded.  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
"Damn, Jenna. You look like crap," he commented.  
  
"Thanks," Jenna retorted.  
  
"Anyways... here." He handed her an envelope. "Seaborn likes you, Jenna. But I really want you to consider declining the offer. I don't want to lose you."  
  
Jenna watched him walk off. Okay... she thought. What was that about?  
  
"Ma'am?" a man in a suit came up to her. Behind him were a couple others in overalls with a dolly.  
  
"Oh!" Jenna exclaimed and got up.  
  
The Secret Service man nodded his thanks and motioned for the two men to get to work.  
  
So much for the rest, Jenna groaned and walked out of the White House. She'd almost forgotten about the envelope she'd stuffed in her pocket by the time she'd gotten a cab. As the cab started up she remembered it and opened the envelope up. Inside was a folded piece of paper.  
  
She read it and was surprised and somewhat annoyed. It was a hand written letter from Senator Seaborn requesting that she join his staff as Press Secretary if he was elected. A bit big headed isn't it? she though. Offering out jobs. But she was also somewhat flattered. She could be on the White House staff. But Steve had said to consider declining.  
  
Jenna read the letter again. There was no date that she had to decide by. She looked down at the letter. Wow, she thought. But... would she except?  
  
***  
  
7:36 PM  
  
"Why am I Secretary of Transportation?" Ronald Timmons asked his wife as they sat at the dinning room table eating. The kids were both spending the night at friends's houses so the two had some time alone.  
  
"I don't know, dear," Sarah Timmons said. "Why are you?"  
  
Ronald laughed. "I really don't know why. What do I know about Transportation?"  
  
"You flew planes in the Navy for four years," Sarah reminded him.  
  
"Why couldn't I have been Homeland Security then? I was in the War on Terror," he said. "Why couldn't I have been that?"  
  
"Maybe you can be next President. Terror is still a threat, though I did like that Schumer built off the others and almost eradicated it..."  
  
Ronald laughs. "If Seaborn wins maybe he'll give me that position," he said. "But from what the New York Times says, that probably isn't going to happen."  
  
Sarah smiled at Ronald and took his hand. "You said you wanted to go back into Congress a few years back. If Billings is elected, you should try for it."  
  
The front door burst open and admitted twelve year old Zachary Timmons. He shouted something about 'forgot my gameboy' and ran up the stairs.  
  
"Maybe I should take a break for a few years," Ronald suggested. "Spend some time with you and the kids."  
  
"That would be nice," Sarah said as Zachary ran back out the door. "They'd appreciate it. Zach anyways."  
  
"Yeah," Ronald agreed. "Well, I guess it depends on wether or not our estimed Mr. Seaborn becomes our next President.  
  
"Don't doubt him," Sarah said. "He just might. I think he will."  
  
Ronald smiled. "Well, just for you, I'll vote for him then."  
  
Sarah smiled. "What would your Republican friends think about that?"  
  
"Half of them think Billings is a sap," Ronald answered. "They're all thinking about voting Seaborn, too. I just hope he doesn't disappoint us if he *is* elected."  
  
"I think Senator McShane will keep him in line," Sarah responded. "She's a very determined woman. I'll bet she'll be going for the job after he finishes."  
  
"She'd be the first," Ronald said. "And she clearly stated she didn't want to be a first."  
  
"As I said about Seaborn, don't doubt her, Ron."  
  
Ronald shook his head. "Come one, the news is on. Let's see how messed up the country is tonight."  
  
***  
  
A/N: My first West Wing based fic. What do you people think? 


	2. 23 Days

A/N: Times are out of order. Next time chapter they'll be in order. I'm to lazy to fix it.  
  
Chapter Two: 23 Days  
  
  
  
1:25 PM  
  
"Karol!" Annie Wildman ran to embrace the Vice Presidental Candidate. "How are you?"  
  
"I should be asking you!" Karol smiled and led Annie, Scott and Annie's mother Allison into her house. It was a small, typical Rhode Island house, left to her by her grandfather when he passed away.  
  
"Now you're sure you don't mind, Karol?" Scott asked his fellow Senator.  
  
Annie and Scott had left Texas to get closer to Washington and to visit a special doctor in Rhode Island for Annie. In exchange for a place to stay, Annie and Allison agreed to take care of the house and feed Karol's cat, Buster.  
  
"Of course not," Karol assured Scott. "As long and Rusty doesn't eat Buster, it's all okay."  
  
The bloodhound puppy in question barked as he heard his name.  
  
"Don't you worry about Rusty," Annie said. "Or Buster. They'll both be fine. Right, Rusty?" She glared at the puppy.  
  
Rusty wagged his tail and barked happily.  
  
"You're going to ride down to DC for the election coverage, right?" Karol asked Annie and Abigail.  
  
Annie nodded. "If the doctor says it is okay."  
  
Scott kissed his wife on the cheek and then kissed her stomach. "I love you. All of you."  
  
Annie smiled and hugged him. "You'd better get going. Congress can't function without you."  
  
Karol laughed. "We'd be happy to be rid of you, Scotty boy," she jested.  
  
The Texan glared and then waved good bye to his mother-in-law. "Call me after the appointment," he shouted as Karol pushed him out of the door.  
  
"Our plane leaves at two, budy boy," Karol told him. "We've got half an hour to get to the air port."  
  
"I know, I know, let's go," Scott said. The two of them got in the car.  
  
Karol walked around to the drivers side and Scott got in the passengers side. Though he liked to drive, he much prefered driving trucks and Karol never let anyone else drive. He figured it was a power thing. Scott didn't care. He began going over some papers for the new gun bill.  
  
"Didn't they resolve guns in the Bush administration?" Scott asked as they were driving.  
  
Karol shrugged. "Stupid people are slowly trying to take away our second amendment rights."  
  
Scott didn't ask.  
  
"You talked to Jody?" Scott asked Karol after awhile.  
  
Jody Summers was one of the Oklahoma Senators and a good friend to the two of them. She'd been diagnosed with breast cancer the year before and had been undergoing treatments in her home state along with her sister who was also diagnosed.  
  
"I did, as a matter of fact," Karol replied. "She IMed me two days ago. Asked how the campaigne was going. Nothing about how she's doing though. I asked her but my cell phone battery died. I borrowed Sam's but she wasn't online we I got back on."  
  
"She called to talk to Annie last night," Scott told Karol. "She says the treatments are working great for both her and her sister. She said she'd probably be back in about a month if things held up."  
  
Karol smiled. "That's good."  
  
They pulled into the parking lot of the air port. Karol checked the car back in and Scott put their luggage on the trolley. They ran into the airport and walked over to their gate. Scott handed the attendent their tickets and they walked onto the plane.  
  
Another attendent showed them to their seats. Second class, though they could have afforded first. Scott felt that people who went up to first class were just people showing off their money. The Texas Senator really was for the people.  
  
"You going to Wafington?" a little boy asked Scott and Karol. "I'm gowing der to see my daddy."  
  
Scott smiled. "We're goint to go there to work. You'll have a lot more fun than us."  
  
"Quit bothering those people, Billy," the little boy's mother said and then apologized to the two Senators.  
  
"No bother, ma'am," Scott said. "Got some of my own coming soon."  
  
The light for them to buckle up came on and Scott fastened his seat belt. "Well, we're going home, Karol."  
  
"God," she said reading the papers Scott had in the car. "I hope I still have those coffee reserves in my apartment. I can just see the mayham in the Chamber."  
  
"Eh... you're right," Scott said. "Probably should have packed my football helmet."  
  
***  
  
6:00 PM  
  
"Nice to see you again, Mr. President," Sam Seaborn said to President Schumer.  
  
"Really, Sam," he said reaching his hand out across his desk for Sam to shake. "Call me Donald. We spent time in Congress together. You survive Congress, you're entitled to call each other by your first names."  
  
Sam laughed and shook the President's hand. "Yes, sir."  
  
"They say Tom is going to win the election," Schumer said, turning serious.  
  
"Only a few of them," Sam said confidently. "I'm not dead yet."  
  
Schumer sighed. "Only twenty-three days, Sam."  
  
Sam nodded. "Me and Karol think we can win," Sam told him. "Have faith, sir. We have Texas on our side. And New York. Maybe Florida. I guess we'll see on election day, huh?"  
  
The President shook his head in astonisment. "You're really something you know?"  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"You're really confident, I mean," Schumer said. "I'd be shaking in my boots."  
  
"I dunno, Donald. I know that I might not make it, the odds are stacked against me," Sam admitted. "And will I ever be able to live up to you? Or Bartlet? To *any* previous President?"  
  
That made Schumer laugh. "Sam, if you become President, you'll surpass us all."  
  
Sam smiled. "Guess we'll have to see, huh?"  
  
"Yeah," Schumer agreed. He reached out his hand again to Sam.  
  
Sam shook it. "I wonder if we'll get DC."  
  
"Don't count on it," Schumer warned. "Billings has this city down packed."  
  
"I think Lisa Morris is doing a great job here," Sam said.  
  
"She is," Schumer told him. "But unfortunately, Billings is more than likely to take this place. Good luck with the rest of the country, Sammy. I'm behind you and McShane one hundred percent."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. President."  
  
"I'll be calling you that soon, Sam," Schumer said.  
  
"We can only hope," was Sam's response.  
  
***  
  
5:30 PM  
  
  
  
"Caleb!" Josh Lyman yelled out the back door his Connecticut home. There was some rustling in the bushes at the edge of the woods and eight year old Caleb emerged, covered in dirt and twigs. "Time to eat, son," Josh told him. "Come in and get cleaned up."  
  
Three other boys came out of the woods. "Going in?" the tallest one with black hair asked.  
  
Caleb nodded. "Yeah... I'll see you tomorrow, Ben," the boy said and ran into the house.  
  
"Daddy, Daddy!" a little girl shouted and ran out of the kitchen. "Come on Daddy!"  
  
Josh laughed. "I'm coming, Katie," he told her. "Is Bruce at the table?"  
  
Katie nodded.  
  
Josh yelled up the stairs. "Come on Caleb!"  
  
The eleven year old ran down the stairs in a clean shirt and face. Josh followed him into the dinning room and the two of them sat down at the table. Set out in their places were plates with chicken, rice and corn. Caleb groaned. "We had chicken yesterday," he complained.  
  
"That was Friday," Donna Lyman told her son. "Today is Monday. Two day gap there dear."  
  
Caleb pouted and began to eat.  
  
"When you gotta go back to work, Dad?" eight year old Bruce Lyman asked his father.  
  
Josh smiled. "Not til next week, Brucie," he said.  
  
"Do we *have* to go back to Washington?" Caleb whined. "I like it here."  
  
"We can always come back, Caleb," Josh told him. "We always do."  
  
"But I don't want to leave!" Caleb yelled. "I've got friends here!"  
  
Donna's jaw dropped slightly at her son's outburst.  
  
"You have friends in Washington too, Caleb," she said.  
  
"No, I don't," Caleb retorted. "They only like me because they're told to. Charles told me that. It's cause Dad works with the President is why."  
  
Caleb threw down his fork and ran upstairs.  
  
Bruce and Katie watched him leave. The two of them didn't mind it in Washington. They liked the city better than the small Connecticut town they went to a month every summer and for Christmas break. The city was so much more exciting.  
  
Josh and Donna exchange shocked looks.  
  
"Don't listen to him, Daddy," Bruce said. "The city is better. This place is boring."  
  
Josh smiled slightly at Bruce.  
  
Donna put her fork down and walked up the stairs after Caleb. Josh waited with Bruce and Katie, then did the dishes once they were done eating. He wondered how Donna was doing with Caleb. He also wondered why he'd never seen it coming. But the kids always seemed to like it in DC. They never complained or anything.  
  
"Hey," Donna said and came up behind Josh.  
  
She began drying the dishes he was washing.  
  
"How'd it go?" he asked her.  
  
Donna sighed. "I don't know, Josh," she said. "Do you think he is right? *Do* they only act like they like him because you're Chief of Staff?"  
  
"Maybe we should put him in a public school," Josh said. "Where all the politicians *don't* send their kids. Those kids would have no reason to pretend to like him."  
  
"They may hate him," Donna told him.  
  
"Well what do you propose we do then!?" he shouted. "I can't exactly stop working. If Sam gets elected, I'm staying and if Billings gets in... if Billings gets in I suppose Caleb will be happy."  
  
Donna looked at him curiously.  
  
Josh grinned. "I wasn't going to say anything until after the election... but Bloomdayle isn't going to run for another term as Governor..."  
  
His wife smiled. "You really think you could?"  
  
"I think so," Josh said. "Like I said though, it all depends on this election. I won't leave Sam out to dry. He's going to need me. Especially since I heard Greg is staying on with Sam's administration."  
  
Donna hugged Josh. "Guess we'll see how everything goes in... three weeks?"  
  
"About that," Josh agreed then sighed. "Wether our son loves or hates us will be decided in just weeks."  
  
"He'll get over it," Donna told him.  
  
"Probably," Josh said. "But... we'll see."  
  
***  
  
9:00 AM  
  
"Irene!" Greg shouted out the door of his office. His assistant ran in. "You seen Eryk?"  
  
"He hasn't come in," she told him. "I can call his house if you'd like."  
  
Greg nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Call and see if he's alright. He's never missed a day before. Not one he hasn't called in or anything."  
  
Irene smiled and left.  
  
The Director of Communications continued typing in his word document in frustration. Schumer had decided to make his last couple months big ones. He had five appearances set out across the country, his consecion speech and whatever else he decided he wanted to do. And on top of it all, his Deputy Director hadn't come in. Hadn't even had the decentcy to call in sick.  
  
"Hey, Greg," Wil Parks, Deputy White House Chief of Staff, or rather the Acting Chief of Staff while Josh was away, said as he walked into Greg's office.  
  
"What?" Greg snarled.  
  
"Geeze... nevermind," Wil said and backed up.  
  
Greg sighed. "Sorry, Wil, just... a lot of speeches. What is with this guy? His two terms were good. He needs to let lose as they're coming to an end."  
  
"I've tried telling him," Wil said. "Hasn't worked. Anyways, that intern, Jobey Naismith is taking bets on who you think'll win the next election. Just came to tell you that your best bet is to go with Billings."  
  
"No," Greg replied. "When Jobey comes in I'll put fifty on Seaborn."  
  
Wil started laughing. "Your fifty, man."  
  
"You'll see," Greg told him. "I've been working with the campaigne manager. They're good and working hard. He'll win. Don't you worry."  
  
Jobey came in at that moment. "What'll it be, sir?" he asked Greg. "Some morons are actually placing money on Seaborn."  
  
"Fifty on Seaborn," Greg told the intern.  
  
Jobey's jaw dropped. "Seriously?" he asked and laughed. "You *really* want to bet fifty bucks on him?"  
  
Greg nodded. "Yes, now get out both of you so I can do my job."  
  
Both Wil and Jobey walked out of the office.  
  
Greg sent an e-mail to Sean at the campaigne headquarters.  
  
  
  
PEOPLE ARE REALLY CONVINCED THAT SEABORN DOESN'T HAVE A CHANCE AROUND HERE. I JUST BET $50 THAT HE'D WIN AND AN INTERN LAUGHED AT ME. AN *INTERN*. PEOPLE BELIEVE IN HIM EVERYWHERE ELSE. WHY NOT HERE? ANYWAYS, HOW'RE THINGS GOING DOWN THERE, KID? LISA BACK? IF NOT, SORRY ABOUT PLACING THE PRESSURE ON YOU. SHE TOLD ME SHE WAS COMING BACK TODAY SO HANG STRONG.  
  
  
  
After it was sent, the Director of Communications continued on his tedious work.  
  
  
  
***  
  
A/N: Well? Good? Please REVIEW. 


	3. 19 Days

Disclaimer: Weird Al belongs to Weird Al, I guess... and the song that goes "...Ground Control to Major Tom, Can you hear me Major Tom?..." belongs to whoever wrote and sings it. I don't know who though. Great song though.  
  
  
  
Chapter Three: 19 Days  
  
  
  
10:00 AM  
  
Sam met Karol in the Georgetown Hilton hotel lobby. "Our campaigning here won't help us win the election," he said. "We should be campaigning in California. Or New York. We could go back to Texas."  
  
"Sam, relax," Karol told him. "We need to show the people we care about DC."  
  
"Of course I care about DC," Sam said. "DC doesn't seem to care about me."  
  
The two of them went to the hotel confrence room. "They're gonna take the big table and push it to the back for putting food on," Karol told him. "And they're gonna bring in a bunch of sofa's and more comfortable chairs for us to sit on.  
  
He nodded. "Sounds good," he said. "You set it up?"  
  
"No," Karol replied. "You're Maryland campaigne manager did. Lisa Morris."  
  
"Send her an invitation to join us on election night," he said. "If she's been campaigning in DC and Maryland she deserves to be there with us when we find out. We won't win either, I don't think, but from what I've heard they've done a great job here."  
  
"Consider it done," she said.  
  
The two of them walked out the back of the hotel and into an awaiting limo. "For just candidates we sure ride around in some pretty good wheels," Karol commented.  
  
"But, of course," Sam said. "Would you rather drive around in an old station wagon. I can arange it." He walked over and knocked on the glass seperating the passengers and driver. "Could you pu-"  
  
Karol pulled him down and had the driver roll the window back up.  
  
Sam grinned then leaned back. Karol handed him a folder. "What's this?"  
  
"Your speech," she said. "Lisa Morris put it together for you. Figured you'd need it if you were going to talk to her native people."  
  
"Even more a reason to invite her to the hotel," he replied.  
  
He read through it and then looked to Karol. "This is actually really well written. Almost like I wrote it."  
  
"Well, if anything, your Communications directors can take comfort in the fact that they won't have to work as hard as they did in Schumer's administration. They'll love you!"  
  
Sam laughed. "That's *if* we win, Karol," Sam said. "If everyone would quit saying we're going to lose by a landslide."  
  
"And if we do?"  
  
"Back to the Congress Chambers?"  
  
Karol groaned. "Not the Chambers. ANYTHING but the Chambers!"  
  
"God, poor Scott, in there all alone," Sam joked. "And come on, I never thought it was *that* bad."  
  
***  
  
12:35 PM  
  
Ronald Timmons placed the tray he was carrying on his daughter's lap. "Chicken noddel soup," he said. "Best thing to have when you're sick." He sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled the thermometer out of her mouth. It read 101 degrees. "Well," he said. "It's gone down a degree."  
  
Rachel Timmons rolled her eyes and put her head phones back on.  
  
Her father left her to her soup. Where had be gone so wrong to make her despise him so much?  
  
Ronald walked downstairs and sat in the living room. Sarah had gone to work; she was a doctor at the Georgetown hospital. He himself had taken a personal day. The Secretary of Transportation figured he'd use Rachel's sick day to try and fix things between the two of them. It didn't, however, seem to be working. If he tried to start a conversation, she'd just ignore him.  
  
Timmons turned on the news then quickly flicked it off. That wasn't what ne needed at the moment. He was taking this day off from politics as well.  
  
What was there to do though? It was painfully clear that Rachel didn't want to talk to him. Ronald mentally kicked himself. He might as well have gone to work. She was seventeen, old enough to stay home alone. All she had to do was call him or Sarah if she really needed something.  
  
School was in and Zach was gone. The one kid that actually liked him was at school on the day his father actually had time to spend with him.  
  
"Meow."  
  
Sabrina Timmons, the only four legged member of the family, jumped up on to the arm of the couch and began rubbing on Ronald's arm. "You like me, don't you Sabrina?"  
  
The grey cat narrowed her eyes and looked at him.  
  
Ronald sighed in submission. "Alright," he said and got up. "Tuna or chicken?"  
  
Sabrina meowed and followed him into the chicken for her cat treat.  
  
***  
  
1:58 PM  
  
"You hear rumors on who the next Press Secretary is going to be?" Bobby leaned over and asked Jenna as the current one walked in.  
  
Though four days had passed, Jenna hadn't said anything to anyone about the offer yet. Not her parents or her sister, no one. She still wasn't sure if she was going to do it. It would mean the end of her traveling... for a while anyways but it would also open up opportunities for her.  
  
"Ground control to Major Clark," Bobby began to sing, engaging into a parody of the 80's song. (A/N: Don't know the title or artist. Do any of you?) "Can you hear me Major Clark? Can you hear me Major Clark? Can you hear... am I sitting in a Press Room, many problems in the world, Planet Earth is screwed and I put it in the news..."  
  
The other journalist began looking at him funny so he stopped. Jenna was about to burst out in laughter. She clapped her hands and was joined by the others. Red faced, Bobby sunk down into his chair.  
  
"Very nice, Bobby," Press Secretary Clara Evans said to a room wide chuckle.  
  
Jenna watched Bobby sink lower in his seat.  
  
Evans went on to report on a recent, out of season tornado in Oklahoma that had put the other Oklahoma senator in the hospital, and to brief them on a Presidential visit to Ft. Watachuka (A/N: Probably not spelled right. My dad hasn't been stationed in AZ yet.)  
  
As they were exiting, the journalists all congratulated Bobby once again on his performance. Jenna half expected him to fall out of his chair.  
  
"Very good, Bobby," Evans said with a grin before she walked out. "Don't quit your day job, though. You're no Weird Al."  
  
Bobby looked at Jenna who shrugged. "I'm all country, pally," she told him. "You'd know who he was before me."  
  
The two journalists walked out of the Press Room together. They were about to part ways when Jenna stopped Bobby.  
  
"It's me you know."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Me," Jenna repeated. "I was asked to be the next Press Secretary... if Seaborn wins anyways."  
  
Bobby's jaw dropped then his face lit up in a big smile. "You're kidding!"  
  
Jenna smiled. "Nope," she said and pulled out the letter. "See?"  
  
The other journalist read the letter from Seaborn and looked at it in disbelief. "This is great, Jenna!" he shouted after a moment.  
  
"See, now that is the part that I'm not sure about," she replied.  
  
"Why not?" Bobby asked.  
  
"Because," Jenna answered.  
  
Bobby asked, "Because... what?"  
  
"Because... I don't know," she said. "Just because. I like writing, Bobby. I've got to give that up if I take this job."  
  
"Only for four to eight years," Bobby said but quieted after seeing Jenna's deadly glare.  
  
"Could *you* give up journalism for eight years?"  
  
"Probably not," Bobby replied. "Well... if the reason was great enough, yes, I would be able to. And look at the bright side. A lot of people say he's going to lose. So don't worry about it right now."  
  
Jenna hugged Bobby.  
  
"What was that for?"  
  
"Well, for once I'm going to listen to you," she said. "I'm not going to worry about it. Not unless Seaborn wins. *Then* I'll worry."  
  
"Sounds good," Bobby said. "Get some lunch with me?"  
  
"You don't know how tempting that offer is," Jenna told him, and meaning it. "But..."  
  
Bobby nodded. "Yeah, I know. Deadlines. Me too. Maybe later?"  
  
She nodded. "I'd like that."  
  
  
  
***  
  
3:30 PM  
  
"Lisa!" Sean Bower called out from his desk. The college student was more than happy to be there now, the lanyard having meant too much responsibility for him. "Phone!"  
  
Lisa Morris shouted back, "Patch it through!"  
  
Sean complied and sent the line through to her office.  
  
"Lisa Morris," she said into the speaker.  
  
"Ms. Morris?"  
  
"This is her."  
  
"This is Karol McShane," the other voice said. "I'm calling on behalf of Presidential Candidate Seaborn. We're having a 'party' on election night at the Hilton in Georgetown and Senator Seaborn and I would like to extend an invitation to you."  
  
Lisa nearly dropped the phone. "R-really?"  
  
"Yes, really. Everyone will arrive at noon and the party will go until the next morning," McShane informed her. "Official information will be mailed to you in... well, in the mail."  
  
"R-really? I mean... wow... that's great," Lisa said. "I mean, it sounds great."  
  
"It'll be good to see you again, Lisa," McShane said. "And Sam loves your speech. Said it even looked like he'd written it himself."  
  
Lisa was flattered. "Thank you, Senator."  
  
"Thank *you*, Lisa," McShane said. "See you on the Eighth."  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."  
  
McShane hung up.  
  
The campaign manager sat down in her chair almost in shock. She'd only met Senators Seaborn and McShane once before, when they'd come to DC once at the begining of the campain. Lisa was confident that they'd win and she would be there when it happened.  
  
"Uh... Earth to Lisa."  
  
She looked up to see Gregory Tymes in her office door way. Her good mood was instantly killed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I came to apologize," Greg said. "Really, to check up on Sean and the rest. But also to apologize."  
  
Lisa was once again shocked. "What brought this around?"  
  
Greg grinned. "Looked like Sean and Petey would kill me if I didn't," he answered. "They said you were in a, and i quote little Petey, 'A very fowl tempered mood'."  
  
"That kid reads too much," Lisa muttered. "Well, good. You've come to terms with your misdoings."  
  
"Ah... yeah," Greg said. "Anyways... that's all I came in here to say.  
  
The White House Communications Director walked out of the campaign office, talking with a few of the volunteers on the way out.  
  
Lisa watched him leave and muttered, "My life may not be so screwed up after all."  
  
*** 


	4. 15 Days

Disclaimer: I don't own Hamburger Helper. I own several boxes, but I don't own the company or any affiliates or anything.  
  
A/N: Times are for their respective time zones.  
  
Chapter Four: 15 Days  
  
  
  
11:46 AM  
  
"Dad?" Katie Lyman called as she entered her parents's room.  
  
Donna had gone out early to get some dress clothes for the kids, having taken their mesurements the night before because she knew they'd hate coming along. Though they probably wouldn't have minded. They'd taken them out for the week and the three of them were getting restless. They were back in Washington so she'd be gone all day, Josh knew.  
  
Josh looked up from where he was reading by the window. "Yeah?"  
  
"Is Uncle Sam going to live in the White House?" she asked.  
  
He closed his book and patted his lap. The five year old ran over and hopped up.  
  
"Do you think he is?" Josh asked her.  
  
"I don't know," Katie answered. "Caleb says the TV newspapers say he won't. He yelled at me when I said he would too. But I just said that to be mean back."  
  
Josh put an arm around Katie's waist. "Well, *I* believe in him," he told her. "So does a past President and the present President. So, yes, I think he will."  
  
Katie though about this for a moment. "If he doesn't, will you lose your job?"  
  
He smiled at her. "Let's just say, Daddy won't have the same job."  
  
"We won't get to go to the big house any more?" she asked sadly.  
  
"We'll move back to Connecticut and... we'll see, baby."  
  
Katie crossed her arms. "I don't like Connecticuk," she complined. "There's nothing to do there."  
  
"There's plenty to do there," Josh told her. "Caleb loves it there."  
  
"Then he can go," she said. "I like it here. The city is more fun."  
  
Her father nodded. "Can't say I disagree. It *is* fun here... and sometimes very, very aggrivating. But fun, too."  
  
After a moment, Josh had an idea. It was Friday, so it wouldn't look that bad to other pedestrians if he took the kids outside. "Katie, go find Bruce and Caleb and tell them we're going to go to the Zoo."  
  
"Really?" asked and her face lit up.  
  
"Yeah," Josh said.  
  
"Yipee!"  
  
He watched as his daughter ran out of his room and heard her run downstairs. Josh pulled off his slippers and put on a pair of socks a shoes. Walking downstairs, he grabbed his coat and threw each of the kids's coats to them. It was chilly outside, not as chilly as it had been the year before at that time of year, but chilly never the less.  
  
They got in the car and Josh was glad to see that even Caleb had a smile on his face, even if it *was* just going to the Zoo.  
  
Good bonding time, Josh figured. And this would give Caleb time to see the good things about DC. Yes, this was a good idea. Even if the other adults there gave him the evil eye for them not being in school.  
  
***  
  
2:20 PM  
  
Congress was taking a recess, a much needed one. The tension that was building up about this new gun law could be cut with a finger nail. What was so bad about requiring people to pass a firing test before buying high powered shot guns? Scott personally thought it was a great idea. Some places in the more rural part of Texas could use that law.  
  
"I can't wait to get out of here," Karol said coming up behind him.  
  
"Resigning tomorrow or the next day?" he asked.  
  
"Tomorrow," she said. "Gunther is going to take over for me. Let him, I say. *He* can deal with this all."  
  
The Texas Senator took off his glasses and cleaned them as he continued to talk. "Some of us can't afford that luxury," he said.  
  
"Aww... is poor little Scotty feeling all alone?" Karol said. "Cheer up. Jody will be back soon. And I'll be around a whole lot... if we win. You won't be alone for that long."  
  
Placing the glasses back on, and returning his vision, Scott looked over at Karol. "Guess not, in more ways that one."  
  
"You heard from Annie?"  
  
Scott's smile grew wider and he nodded. "There are four heart beats," he told her. "All strong, all healthy."  
  
The Rhode Islander jumped up and hugged him. "That's great!"  
  
He nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Instant family. Just break water."  
  
"That's not nice, Scotty," a woman said from behind the two Senators. "It hurts like hell. Just like you men to be cracking jokes."  
  
"Jody!"  
  
The Oklahoman smiled hugged Scott and Karol.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Scott demanded. "You're supposed to be in the hospital."  
  
"Shantae is in the hospital," Jody replied. "And she needs to be there."  
  
The other two nodded. It was true. Senator Shantae Barackas *did* need to be in the hospital more than Jody. The tornado had cause internal bleeding, fractured her skull and broke both her legs. It was a horrible thing for a Senator to be in the hospital. They may argue a lot in the Chamber, but outside, and Scott, Karol and Jody are a living example, Senators are really quite good friends.  
  
"It doesn't mean you shouldn't be taking it easy," Karol said.  
  
"Oklahoma needs one of her Senators here. Can't have you all making the decisions," Jody defended.  
  
"Think we'll make a wrong one?" Scott jested.  
  
"We just might," Virginia Senator Mary Ortz said. "Come one, we're going back into session. Good to see you Jody." The other Senators began walking back into the Chamber.  
  
Jody sighed and muttered "Back to the coal mines, eh?"  
  
"Welcome home, Jody."  
  
***  
  
4:30 PM  
  
"All rise for the honorable Judge Young," the bailiff called out to the people in the court room. Judge Charles "Charlie" Young walked up to his seat.  
  
"Be seated," he told those assembled. He turned to look at the jury. "Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?"  
  
"We have your honor," the spokesperson of the jury stood and stated. She held out a sealed envelope to the bailiff.  
  
Charlie watched as the bailiff took the enevlope from the woman and handed it to him. He nodded to the bailiff who took up post to his left. Showing no obvious signs of emotion, Charlie opened the envelope and read it. It took all he had in him to conceal the smile that threatened to creep across his face.  
  
"When I read the verdict there will be no emotional outbursts of any kind," Charlie said to the people in the court room. There was a dead silence. "The jury finds the defendant, Jamal Walkins, guilty of murder in the first degree."  
  
There was a great cheer that Charlie was sure could be heard two court rooms down. He banged his gavel several times before the court room quieted. "Sentencing will be in one week," he told the defendant and his lawyer. The lawyer nodded and the defendant glared as he was led away by the bailiff and another office.  
  
"This court is dismissed."  
  
Charlie watched as the people in the court room hugged and cried in happiness. He let the smile show now and he nodded to the woman whos daughter had been brutally murdered by the defendent. She mouthed, 'Thank you.' Charlie's smile grew wider and he walked into his chamber.  
  
He took of his robes and gathered all the things he needed to take home. One of the things he regretted most, was having to bring work home. But his children didn't mind it as much as he did. As long as Dad was there to see Little League games or go to movies.  
  
An old Buick waited in the parking lot for him. He tossed his things in the back seat and got in. For a moment he fumbled with the steering wheel lock, cursing San Diego and Sam for convincing him to come and run for judge there. It'd been a great surprise when he'd won, he hadn't been cursing Sam at that time. He was the youngest judge in the city, sometime a burden but other times a blessing. A great achievement that meant better for his wife and kids.  
  
Charlie drove home, which was a large house outside San Diego. Zoey's father had helped make the payments when they'd first moved in. When he tried to pay him back, the former President had said that his grandkids were payment enough. Charlie sometimes agreed with him. Four kids could cover, and create, all kinds of debts.  
  
"Daddy!" his youngest kids shouted as he pulled into the drive way.  
  
Zaden (6) and Brady (5) ran at Charlie as he stepped out of his car. He gathered his son and daughter in his arms and lifted them up, carrying them to the front porch as he walked to where Zoey was waiting. He put them down and kissed Zoey.  
  
"I made dinner, Dad!" Dylann (9), Charlie and Zoey's oldest daugther, called out from the kitchen.  
  
He walked out to see her finishing up the Hamburger Helper. Charlie grinned and said, "That's great, Dyl. It looks really good."  
  
"Mom said I can cook for Grandma and Grandpa when they come for Christmas," she said.  
  
Charlie smiled. "And I know they'll love that," he told her, imaging what the Hamburger Helper was going to taste like. He could just see Jed Bartlet eating it and pretending to like it. He'd make it seem like politics and try covering himself in big words.  
  
Zoey helped Dylann dish out the Helper while the younger two set the table and Charlie went over some papers he brought home. He saw the stack of papers Zoey'd brough home to grade and disregarded his own papers for hers, grading them by her answer key.  
  
"Time to eat!" Dylann shouted gleefully.  
  
Judge Young walked in to find his family already sitting at the table waiting for him. Somewhat cautiously, he took a bit and was surprised to find that the Helper tasted normal, like Zoey had cooked it.  
  
"Very good, Dylann," he congratulated his daughter. "This is *really* good."  
  
Dylann smiled and the rest of the family began eating. Charlie felt good, he'd seen a murderer convicted, done some of his wife's papers and made her life easier and was there to sample Dylann's first attempt at cooking. It was great day.  
  
***  
  
9:00 PM  
  
Sam Seaborn sat in his hotel room and picked up the phone. He dialed the number to his home in California, something he hadn't done in almost a week.  
  
"Hello?" someone said over the line.  
  
"Simon? That you?" Sam asked, recognizing the voice of one of the twins.  
  
The twin laughed at the other end. "No, Dad," he answered. "It's me! Donovan!"  
  
Sam smiled. "How you doing?"  
  
"Great, Dad," Donovan answered.  
  
"Great, Dad," came an echo.  
  
"Good to hear, Simon," Sam said, realizing that the other twin had come on too.  
  
There was laughter and then several sounds of "Uh-oh" and a reciever click. "Sam? Is that you?" Mallory Seaborn inquired.  
  
"Hey, Mal," Sam replied. "Sorry I haven't called in a while..."  
  
"How's the campaign, Sam?"  
  
Sam smiled. "Good. I think," he answered. "We'll see in... fifteen days? Fourteen days, now?"  
  
"Yeah," she said. "The kids and me are coming up on that Friday. Dad's going to meet us at the airport and take us to the hotel so don't worry about that. Jed Bartlet and his wife, are going to be coming down too."  
  
He was surprised. Sam knew that he'd been supporting him New Hampshire but he'd not heard that he'd be coming down for election day. "You're kidding."  
  
"Nope," came Mallory's reply. "He told you you'd run and he is going to be there to see if you win. Couldn't keep him away, even if you wanted to."  
  
Seaborn smiled. "Good," he said. "It's been too long since we saw him."  
  
"And the kids are looking forward to seeing CJ again, too," Mallory said. "Especially the twins. Hoping to pick up more on Agent Donovan."  
  
"We'd better watch out or they're going to be on the security detail before we leave the White House," Sam joked.  
  
"You're not kidding," Mallory laughed.  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"I miss you, Sam," Mallory said. "So do the kids."  
  
Sam frowned. "I know... and... you'll be here soon," he said. "Tell the twins to get in bed for me, and tell the kids I love them. I'd better go. We've got an early flight tomorrow."  
  
"Okay... I love you, Sam," Mallory said. "Say hello to Karol for me. And Josh and Donna when you see them next."  
  
"Good night, Mal."  
  
"'Night, Sam."  
  
They both stayed on the line, neither wanting to hang up.  
  
"Good night, Sam," Mallory said after a few minutes.  
  
He grinned. "Good night," he said heard the other reciever click. "Good night."  
  
***  
  
A/N: The twins are named Simon and Donovan because he was the coolest character. He's dead, yes, I know. And that sucked. However, in my neighborhood we're praying for a Boston Public (they show him dead but he ends up not dead in the next episode.) Unlikely, as the season primer will most likely involve the staffers trekking to a cemetary for Donovan's burial. ::shrug:: We can hope right? That's what hope was made for after all. 


	5. 11 Days

Chapter Five: 11 Days  
  
  
  
4:37 AM  
  
Scott Wildman woke up to the phone ringing off the hook. How long it had been ringing was anyone's guess as the Texas Senator had yet to invest in a answering machine. He tried to avoid being in DC as often as he could, prefering his small ranch outside Amarillo.  
  
"Hello?" he groaned into the reciever.  
  
"Scott? Scott?" he heard Allison practically shouting  
  
"Mom?" he asked. "Mom? What is it?"  
  
Allison was crying, or it sounded like crying to Scott. It was a bad connection, obviously from a pay phone of a cell phone. "She went into labor."  
  
"It's four months early!"  
  
"They've reversed it," she said. "But they lost one of the babies."  
  
Scott nearly dropped the phone. He didn't know what to say, what he *should* say. If he should say anything at all. Scott was sure he should say something but...  
  
"How's Annie?"  
  
There was a sniff. "She's okay, considering," Allison replied. "The other three are fine. One has a weak heart beat but they expect it to pick up."  
  
He sighed in... relief? Yes, relieft. That the other three were okay.  
  
"C-can I talk to her?" Scott asked.  
  
"She's sleeping now," Allison told him. "I'll call you later though. When will you be out of Chamber?"  
  
"Call me whenever," he answered. "Whenever she wakes up. Call me."  
  
"Alright," Allison said. "I'll call you later, Scotty."  
  
"Thanks," Scott said.  
  
"Try and get some more sleep," she told him. "You need it."  
  
"I'll try," the Senator lied.  
  
"Good bye."  
  
"Good bye."  
  
Wildman sat on the edge of his bed and exhaled. His mother-in-law was right. He *should* get some sleep. But how do you sleep after something like that? For the rest of the day, Scott knew he'd be haunted by the fact that he wasn't there when Annie needed him.  
  
He got up and groaned. His bad knee, a constant reminder of his service in the military ached. Disregarding it, he got into the shower and got ready for a long day in the Chambers.  
  
***  
  
8:40 AM  
  
"Wednesday."  
  
"What?" Lisa asked.  
  
"Today is Wednesday, Lisa," Sean Bower said as he saw her marking off the Tuesday box on the campaign countdown calender.  
  
Lisa looked at him. "What? You're kidding."  
  
Sean shook his head.  
  
"Damn," Lisa joked. "I missed Tuesday. What the- Petey! Where did Tuesday go?"  
  
"Down the drain," Petey Garrison replied bitterly.  
  
Confused, Bower looked at Lisa.  
  
"Petey and me got pelted by acorns and pebbles when we accidentally walked into a Billings rally," she explained. "And they say Democrats are heartless."  
  
Sean's eyes widened as he noticed the small cut on Lisa's cheek.  
  
"God," she said gleefully. "Yesterday was great." She marked off Wednesday as well. "Happy?" she asked Sean.  
  
The red head college boy nodded then handed her the letter he'd come to give her in the first place.  
  
"Good, boy," she praised him and he walked out.  
  
Lisa looked at the front and saw the name "Senator Karol McShane" as the sender. She carefully opened it and took out the paper inside. It was the information Karol had told her she'd send. Almost tossed aside as a dream, Lisa was holding here, in her hands, the proof that she had indeed been invited to the election party. She might actually be there to see the next president elected. And it said she could bring someone. A date, they'd think.  
  
She'd worked long and hard on this campaign, not that she had any job she'd left to work there. Straight out of college with a bachelors in American History, she'd jumped on board the Seaborn campaign right at the begining, dragging her former classmates, Sean and Petey, along with her.  
  
Now she may actually see her hard work pay off.  
  
"Sean, Petey!" she shouted out her office. "How you two feel about going to the Seaborn election party?"  
  
Petey poked his head into her office.  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
The campaign manager shook her head.  
  
"Let's go see the next President elected."  
  
***  
  
1:50 PM  
  
"It's almost two," Jody Summers complained. "Can't we have lunch at a regular time like the rest of the country?"  
  
"No," Mary Ortz said from the other side of the circular table. (A/N: okay... circular tables don't have sides. Sue me.) "Those of us in the law making business must sacrifice normality."  
  
Jody finished his sandwich and took out an apple.  
  
"What are you? A little gradeschooler?" Ted Rockhimer, New York Senator, asked. "What's with the bag lunch?"  
  
She glared at the other Senator. "Atleast I'm not eating fast food everyday," she growled and then changed the subject. "Anyone heard from Scott or Karol?"  
  
Roy Pentabal of South Carolina nodded and said, "I did." He was the only Republican in the group besides Scott so he was often quiet when the other wasn't around. Political arguments erupt in the mess very often and can be very dangerous. "From Scott anyways."  
  
The other three Senators looked at him almost anxiously.  
  
"He just said he wasn't going to be coming in," he told them. "Something about Annie... he was pretty shook up."  
  
Ted, Jody and Mary were silent for a moment.  
  
"God." Jody was the first to speak.  
  
Silence once again fell over the table.  
  
In an attempt to get everyone out of their morbid mood, Ted said, "I heard from Karol."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Ted nodded. "Aparently Utah decided that they didn't like the Seaborn and McShane campaign."  
  
"Uh-oh."  
  
"Yeah," Ted said. "The campaign bus has three flat tires and... six broken windows I think it was."  
  
"I knew Karol shouldn't have made that Mormon comment..." Jody said.  
  
"And they wonder why I'm never going to run," Roy joked.  
  
"Just don't come to New York City," Ted warned. "Northern New York, fine. But NYC... just remember your bulletproof vest and consider changing parties."  
  
Pentabal, now thuroughly afraid of New York State, vowed never to run and if he did, not to campaign in New York. (A/N: I have nothing against NYS. I live there! Hooah! Great place.)  
  
Mary looked at her watch. "What time are we supposed to be back in Chambers?"  
  
"Uh... 2:30?" Jody said.  
  
"Oh, good," she said. "Someone give me 75 cents. I want a bag of potato chips."  
  
Roy handed her three quarters and watched her walk over to the vending machine in the corner. "I wanted some chips too," he mock whined.  
  
Jody pushed three more quarters toward Roy.  
  
He jumped up and ran after Mary.  
  
"He's like a little kid," Jody told Ted. "If the runs, the country will be reduced to Kindergarten status."  
  
"My kindergartener happens to be a genius," Ted said.  
  
Summers rolled her eyes. She looked over and saw Mary and Roy beating up the vending machine and then noticed the 'OUT OF ORDER' sign that had fallen to the ground. "Should we tell them?"  
  
"They'll figure it out sooner or later."  
  
***  
  
4:30 PM  
  
"People are evil."  
  
"Please tell me that's not going into the speech," Eryk Ashcroft, Deputy Director of Communications, said. "Public relations won't like that, Greg."  
  
Greg Tymes shrugged. "I hate people."  
  
Eryk sighed. "What brought this around?"  
  
"I hate people," he repeated. "Nothing brought it up. I just do."  
  
"Should I call a psychiatrist?" Eryk asked.  
  
Greg thought a minute. "Yes, do that," he said. "Because I really need one."  
  
Eryk shook his head and turned Greg's laptop around so he could continue writing the Presidental speech that Greg had given up writing the hour before.  
  
Jobey Naismith walked in a few minutes later to drop some papers and saw the sulking Communications Director. "What's wrong with him?"  
  
"He hates people," Eryk answered, not looking up from the laptop.  
  
"Your car got stolen again!?"  
  
Tymes nodded. "Yes," he answered. "The cops are beging to think I get it stolen on purpose!"  
  
"That ratty old thing?" his Deputy asked with humor. "Stolen?"  
  
Greg glared at him. "Yes! For the sixth time!"  
  
Jobey burst into laughter. He quickly left before Greg could throw anything at him.  
  
"You really need to trade that thing in," Eryk told Greg after Jobey left.  
  
"Don't you think I've tried?" Greg yelled. "They take one look at the car's history and say it's no good if it keeps getting stolen. Who wants a car that has been stolen fifty thousand times?!"  
  
Outside the office, Jobey once again burst out laughing.  
  
"Don't make me come out there!" Greg threatened. He turned back to Eryk. "And you wonder why I hate people."  
  
"God, Greg. If I were you, I'd hate people too."  
  
"Thank you. Now, let's get back to that speech."  
  
"Sure I shouldn't still call the psychiatrist?" Eryk joked.  
  
"Speech. Now. Us. Work." Greg said.  
  
"I'm calling him, right now."  
  
"Good. We'll work while we wait for the Secret Service to let him in."  
  
***  
  
A/N: End of this chapter. Greg, if you're wondering, is based on a real person just like Lisa is and they do act like they do all the time. 


	6. 7 Days

A/N: I just found out today that Rob Lowe is leaving West Wing... so you'll all know when it was that this chapter was written. So this fic is either going to end up being AU or I'll fill in those 12 years at some point.  
  
Chapter Six: One Week  
  
  
  
9:25 AM  
  
"One week, one week, one week," Karol said, pacing across her apartment. It was just one week until election day and tensions were high all over DC.  
  
Scott, who had been watching her was feeling a bit queasy now. "Karol, please, I'm going to be sick."  
  
"Don't be saying sick!" Annie Wildman shouted from the other room. "Or I will be..."  
  
Annie and Allison had driven down two days previous and had taken up residence in Karol's first floor apartment. Scott's DC apartment was a third story and not good for a very pregnant woman with an at risk pregnancy. So, once again, the Wildmans impossed upon Karol.  
  
Senator Wildman sighed. "You need to relax, you know, Karol?"  
  
"RELAX!?"  
  
Scott plugged his hears as Karol exploded.  
  
Once he was sure it was safe, he pulled his fingers from his ears and said, "Yeah. You know, sit down, not worry that everything you've worked so hard to accomplish will be decided in seven days..."  
  
"Yeah, thanks, Scott. *Now* I can relax," she said sarcastically.  
  
"Anything I can do to help."  
  
Rusty ran in and began barking happily as Allison chased after the leash he was dragging behind him. Scott stepped on the leash and kept the puppy from taking off. He struggled agaisnt it and then relented as Allison picked up the leash.  
  
"Just wait until you have three little ones crawling around, Scotty," Allison told him. "You won't be able to stomp on any leashes to stop *them*."  
  
Scott put on a mock look of horror then grinned.  
  
Karol sat in the chair next to the phone, flicking torn off pieces of post it notes in various directions. Her brother, Dylan, was supposed to call and confirm his arrival at the air port so she could pick him up. If she hadn't had him to pick up here sanity probably would have disolved days before.  
  
The phone rang and she jumped, the still whole post it notes flying everywhere.  
  
"Hello?" She said picking it up.  
  
"Hey, Kari!" Deryk McShane shouted over the phone. "I'm here."  
  
"Yes, good," Karol said. "I'm going crazy. Hang on, I'm coming to pick you up."  
  
"I can just take a cab..."  
  
"NO!" Karol shouted in a craze.  
  
Scott almost burst out laughing, trying to figure out what he said.  
  
"I'm coming to get you," Karol said again in a normal voice. "Stay."  
  
"Bu-"  
  
"Stay."  
  
She hung up and grabbed her keyes and jacket. "I'm going to pick up my brother," she told Scott and Allison who stood staring at her. "I'll be back in about half an hour."  
  
Scott and Allison watched as she left.  
  
"She's going to be our vice president?" Allison asked.  
  
"God help us, eh?" Scott joked.  
  
***  
  
1:39 PM  
  
"Hey, Ron," Secretary of Homeland Security greeted his coworker as he walked out of the Oval Office. Ron Timmons nodded to the other man and walked over to the President's secretary.  
  
"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Cook," Ron said goodheartedly to the elder woman.  
  
"Quit calling me Missus, Ronald Timmons," she said. "You make me feel like an old woman. You're not much younger than me."  
  
Ronald smiled.  
  
"Go on in," Mrs. Cook said to him. "And when you come back out I expect to be addressed Bethany. No more of this Missus stuff. How many times need I tell you that?"  
  
Timmons grinned mischieviously. "Well, you've told me fourteen times, let's try for fifteen," he joked.  
  
Mrs. Cook glared at him as he was let into the Oval Office by one of the Secret Service men.  
  
"Ron!" President Schumer called out from his desk.  
  
"Mr. President," Ronald nodded.  
  
Schumer came around the desk and shook Ronald's hand. "How's Rachel?" he aked. "I heard she was under the weather."  
  
//Does news travel that slow in this place?// Ronald thought, then wondered if it was that slow, how did it get around so fast that the Secretary of State's daughter had an affair? He shook his head.  
  
"She's fine, sir," he told the President. "How've *your* kids been."  
  
The President smiled. "Great," he said. "Marcy graduates Harvard Law in May and Justin is coming home from Oxford for Christmas."  
  
"That's good, sir."  
  
"That's not why I brought you here, though," Schumer said.  
  
Ronald nodded. "I didn't think it was, sir."  
  
"There was another derailing in Colorado," he said.  
  
The Secretary of Transportation nodded. He was well aware of it. It was the fourth in seven months. Just freight trains so little attention was paid by the media. "Yes, sir," he replied. "We're working on it. It's the tracks. They're all a mess. Atleast six hundred miles needs to be replaced."  
  
Schumer gaped at him. "You're kidding."  
  
"No, sir," Ronald said. "I've got a plan set up and-"  
  
"No."  
  
Ronald looked at the President in surprise. "Sir?"  
  
"We're not going to do anything," he told Ronald. "Just patch up the worst places. I'm not going to admit that I've ignored this problem for almost a year. Ron, take care of the worst parts."  
  
Timmons stared at the President. "Sir-"  
  
"Ron, it's already being taken care of as we speak," Schumer said. "Just go along with it. My term is almost up. Then this will be on Seaborn or Billings's shoulders. All fault will fall to them."  
  
Ronald wasn't sure what to say. What to do. Schumer's term was up in about two months. Then everything that happened in his administration would be set on the next to sort through. Maybe Schumer was right. It would fall on them and the blame would go to that administartion.  
  
"Yes, sir," he said.  
  
Schumer smiled. "Good. I'll see you later, Ron."  
  
He nodded and exited the Oval Office.  
  
***  
  
6:02 PM  
  
"This is really great, Bobby," Jenna Clark told the man sitting across from her. There was a candle lit in the middle of the table, the lights were dimmed, it was the perfect romantic setting. "You sure you can afford this?"  
  
Bobby grinned. "Of course I can," he said. "What did you expect? I'd planned at dine and ditch or something?"  
  
One of the waiters at another table heard him and looked him over suspiciously.  
  
Jenna started giggling. "That was great, Bobby," she said. "Now they're not going to trust us all night."  
  
"Are you ready to order?" a waiter with a stuffy French accent asked them.  
  
"Oui, mon bon homme. La dame et je suis prêt à commander," Bobby said.  
  
The waiter looked at him uncertain.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Bobby pretended to apologized. "Your accent. It sounded French. Yes, I'm ready to order. Jenna?"  
  
The two of them ordered, in English for the benefit of the waiter. After the man had left, Jenna looked over at Bobby. "You're *evil*."  
  
The other reporter laughed. "What?" he asked in mock innocence. "Oh, come on. That accent was obviously fake. It's not my fault someone finally caught him in the act."  
  
It wasn't long before their food came and the two ate in silence. After they finished however, their reporter instincts clocked in as a group of Senators walked in.  
  
"This is going to be fun," Jenna muttered as she watched them through the corner of her eye. They sat at the table just beside them.  
  
Bobby grinned. "And I don't have my tape recorder."  
  
Jenna took an extra one out of her purse and slid it across the table to Bobby.  
  
For the next hour, they ate dessert, taking small bites of pie and ice cream so they could drag it out the entire duration of the Senators's stay.  
  
"That was fun," Jenna said as they walked outside to Bobby's car. "I got dinner and a story."  
  
Towlhouse smiled. "Glad you enjoyed it. I had fun, too." He held up the tape recorder. "I get this back to you... Friday night? At 7:30?"  
  
Jenna smiled. "Sounds great," she said.  
  
***  
  
8:23 PM  
  
"She should have gotten them on an earlier plane," Sam Seaborn said, standing in the waiting area for Gate Seven. He looked over at the Secret Service man Schumer had lent him. "Don't you think?"  
  
"Yes, sir," the man replied.  
  
"They're only three and four," Sam continued. "What were we thinking? Letting them solo from California? How stupid are we? What were we thinking?!"  
  
The Secret Service man, realizing he needed to answer in some way, said, "I don't know, sir."  
  
The Presidental Candidate bolted to the window as the plane set down. "If they're not on there, or something happened..."  
  
"I'm sure they're fine, sir," the Secret Service man said.  
  
Sam began to pace, waiting for people to start exiting the plane. An elder couple was the first off soon followed by other first class passengers. He knew that his two young sons were in first class and when they didn't come off with the first class passengers he began to panic. "What happened? Where are they? Did they not want to come? Did they-"  
  
"Daddy!"  
  
Sam looked over to the gate to see four year old Toby Seaborn running towards him. He picked the little boy up and hugged him. "Where's Josh?"  
  
"He's right here," a woman said.  
  
He looked up. "CJ!"  
  
CJ Cregg smiled. "Good to see you again, Sam."  
  
"Daddy, Daddy!" Joshua Seaborn yelled from down on the floor and reached upwards with his arms.  
  
Sam set Toby down and picked up Joshua.  
  
"These two little guys decided that first class wasn't good enough for them when they saw Auntie CJ back in coach," CJ told Sam. "They seemed to be driving the stewardesses in first class crazy. They were glad to have them move back with me."  
  
"Thanks, CJ," he said. "For looking out for them."  
  
Toby had wandered over to the Secret Service man and was looking up at him. "You're gigantic," the little boy said to the man who laughed at Toby's mispronounciation of the word. He nodded. Someone standing 6' 4" would be tall to a little four year old.  
  
"CJ, this is my Secret Service man for the time being," Sam introduced her. "Max Bannerman. He's on loan from Schumer."  
  
Bannerman nodded to CJ.  
  
"That reminds me," CJ said. "Where are the others?"  
  
"We didn't want to take them out of school until we really had too. These two miss a week of pre-school, they aren't going to miss anything but the others would," Sam answered. "And AJ refuses to miss any day that she absolutely doesn't have too."  
  
Abigail Jean, only seven, wouldn't miss a day of school unless it was absolutely neccessary. A grade ahead, she hated missing out on anything of an educational standard. AJ was probably the weirdest seven year old Sam had ever met, reading instead of playing (and playing football and climbing trees when she did) and already able to take apart a remote and put it back together in working conditions. Something that still remained to be figured out by the rest of the country's population.  
  
"What are you doing here in DC?" Sam aked CJ.  
  
"I came back to vote," she said. "I never did register in California and I haven't voted in years."  
  
"Thanks," Sam said.  
  
CJ smiled. "You think I wouldn't vote for you?"  
  
"You didn't have to take a plane all the way to DC just to vote. That's the wonderful thing about absentee ballots."  
  
Joshua was looking up at Sam and CJ in confusion, having no clue what a ballot was and why his father didn't want CJ to be there. "Daddy," he said tugging at Sam's jacket. "CJ stay?"  
  
"Of course," CJ said and picked Joshua up. "For more that week!"  
  
The little boy smiled.  
  
"Come here, Toby," Sam called out to his other son and the boy ran over to be picked up.  
  
"On another topic," CJ said. "How many of our names have you crammed on to these kids?"  
  
Sam grinned. "Hey, Josh, what's your name?"  
  
"Joshua Bartlet Cregg Seaborn, Daddy," he answered. "You know that."  
  
"What's Toby's name?"  
  
"Toby McGarry," Toby answered, pronouncing McGarry as miggery.  
  
"You got off easy didn't you?"  
  
"They're names aren't that bad. They're named after very important people, after all," Sam defended. They were now outside the airport and on the curb. "Need a ride?"  
  
CJ shook her head. "I'll get a cab."  
  
"Come on, where are you staying? We can make a stop," Sam said. "Right Max?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Fine," CJ said in resignation. "It's a little motel down the road from the Georgetown Hilton. To far out of your way?"  
  
Sam laughed. "Not at all. We're at the Hilton. You know, this is perfect. You can come to the election day party," he told her. "Josh and Donna are coming and the President and Dr. Bartlet. It'll be like old times... sorta. Just no running around and no one shouting because someone has missiles pointed at someone else."  
  
"Sounds like... well, fun probably isn't the word to use," CJ jested. "But it sounds good. If you've got room for one more, count me in."  
  
***  
  
A/N: As I said up above, it is easy to know when this chapter was written. I love West Wing, but I feel that the loss of Sam is going to hurt the show. Along with the death of Simon, the leaving of Rob Lowe will cause up roar in the fields of the viewers and we may sadly see Bartlet as a one term president. Or, more likely, a 5 season president. But then, ER survived actor disappearances so... maybe, hopefully, West Wing will, too. 


	7. 3 Days

Chapter Seven: 3 Days  
  
  
  
6:30 AM  
  
"Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep."  
  
The sound was repetative yet it took Karol several moments to register the sound as the alarm clock. She groaned and nearly rolled off the pulled out couch/bed. Eyes adjusting to wake mode, she got up and stumbled into the outstretched recliner causing herself to plow full force into the being sleeping there.  
  
There was a yelp and several lights turned on.  
  
Scott, baseball bat in hand, walked out of the bedroom. However, he lowered it as he saw what scene had unfolded.  
  
Karol, her usual graceful morning self had gotten out of bed and fell onto Deryk who was sleeping on the recliner.  
  
"Good!" Allison clapped her hands enthusiastically. "You're all up. I've got pancakes made and ready for eating. So... who's hungry?"  
  
"It's three days until my fate is decided," Karol groaned. "I want caffine. I *NEED* coffee." She looked at Deryk who was still half asleep and leaned on the foot rest part of the recliner. "You'r a doctor. Hook me up on a caffine IV or something."  
  
"Take some pills and call me in the morning," he joked and put the foot rest down.  
  
His sister stumbled to the ground.  
  
Karol picked herself up, growled and then lept at Deryk intent on doing as much damage as possible to his face without damaging it so bad that it scared the reporters away.  
  
"Ahhh!" Deryk yelled and jumped of the recliner. The safest place to be in the apartment was the kitchen because that was Allison's realm and *NO ONE* went against Mrs. Campbell. "Morning, Mrs. C," he said and jumped behind her into the kitchen to sit at the small table for breakfast. He looked out into the living room and stuck his tounge out at Karol.  
  
The Texas Senator disappeared back into the bedroom and came out in full dress with is wife on his arm. There was the exchange of 'good morning' from everyone as they all gathered in the kitchen to eat. Annie, Allison and Deryk sat at the table while Scott and Karol sat on the counters.  
  
Looking around at them all, Karol knew that it was going to be a next couple of days.  
  
***  
  
12:15 AM  
  
"Ever find your car?" Eryk asked the Communications director as they were walking towards the Oval Office.  
  
Greg shook his head. "Nope. And I still hate people."  
  
"The psychiatrist never made it through security did he?"  
  
Jobey walked towards them and pointed back in the direction of the main entrance. "Theres some doctor guy sitting down there waiting for someone to sign him in..."  
  
Eryk grinned and Greg gave him a death look.  
  
"Go on in boys," Mrs. Cook said to them as the came to the door of the Oval Office. "He's waiting for you."  
  
The two of them walked in, then walked over to the President's desk. Eryk handed him a blue velvet folder with the Presidental seal on it.  
  
Schumer eyed the folder and then the two staffers. "Both speeches?"  
  
Greg nodded. "One if Billings wins, one if Seaborn does."  
  
"Just make sure you don't read the wrong one," Eryk joked and then fell silent after recieving a very strict glare from the Communications Director at his left.  
  
The President set the folder down on his desk and then sighed. He turned around and looked out the window of his office. "I'm going to miss it," he said, back turned to them still.  
  
"Me, too, sir," Eryk dared to speak again.  
  
He turned around and smiled at Eryk. "We had a good seven years didn't we?" he asked Ashcroft.  
  
Greg winced at the acknowledgement of President Leopold Daniels. A great man who had had big dreams for America and the power to impliment them. He'd been in office for almost a year when he'd died tragiclly of a stroke. Schumer had taken over and ran once again, leaving the man with big dreams six feet under.  
  
The Deputy Communications Director nodded. "Yes, sir. We did."  
  
Looking over at the younger man, Greg could tell that it hurt Eryk too. Of all the staffers, he'd been closest to the President. Closer even that the Chief of Staff. Leonard had brought Eryk Ashcroft from a little farm town in Northern New York and all the way to the White House.  
  
Schumer cleared his throat. "I'll see you boys later," he said, clearly dismissing them.  
  
They both nodded and left the Oval Office.  
  
Outside, Eryk sighed deeply. "I wish he could have been here these past seven years," he told Greg. "Think of all the things that woulda turned out different."  
  
"Yeah," Greg replied. "Like Lyman not taking so many vacations. He only came on because of Leonard. Tell you the truth, I'm under the impression he doesn't like Schumer."  
  
"Well, I don't have to worry about who the President is after this," Eryk said. "I pity you."  
  
"Just do me a favor and vote for Seaborn," Greg told him as the two of them split ways to go into their offices. "He was a speech writer himself. He comes in, I might actually get to sleep five hours a night."  
  
"Just because you said that, I'm voting for Billings," Jobey jested and ducked into Wil Parks's office before Greg could hit him.  
  
***  
  
3:43 PM  
  
"You leaving early, Lisa?" Petey asked her as she grabbed her coat off the coat rack.  
  
"Think you and Sean can hold the fort down?" Lisa asked them then sniffled. "Taylor is sick in bed too. I don't know why I came... just don't get sick before the election party okay, Petey?"  
  
Petey only seemed to have picked up on one part of that. "Taylor is sick?" Taylor Jennings was Lisa's roommate and she'd hooked her and Petey up several months before.  
  
"Yeah," Lisa replied. "Now I am. I'm going home."  
  
She walked out the front and went to the corner to flag a cab. The cabbies had other ideas. No one wanted to pick someone so obviously sick up. Dejected, Lisa sat on the bus stop for a bus, unknown to her, had a flat down on Easter Market.  
  
A black car with tinted windows rolled up and stopped in front of her. The back window rolled down, and Sam Seaborn stuck his head out. "Need a lift, Ms. Morris?"  
  
Lisa was shocked. "Senator Seaborn... wow... uh... hi..."  
  
Seaborn grinned. "Where you going?"  
  
"My apartment, sir," she answered. "But really, I can wait for the bus or a cab."  
  
"Nonsense. How can I leave a beautiful young lady, like yourself, out alone on the curb?" He opened the door. "Where's your apartment."  
  
"I really appreciate this," Lisa thanked him. "I really do."  
  
"Apartment, ma'am?" Bannerman asked from the driver's seat.  
  
"Oh, it's on Seventh, right past the East Capitol junction."  
  
The Secret Service man nodded and the car headed that way.  
  
"So, Ms. Morris," Sam said. "What made you decided to work for my election?"  
  
She shrugged. "I don't know," she answered. "I ran out of money for college, my parents are trying to pay for my sister who got into Harvard and its hard enough without me needing money, too. So I left Georgetown with a bachelors and decided to be part of the next election, just for the hell of it." Her replied was paused several times for Lisa to sneeze, sniffle, etc.  
  
It wasn't long before they'd reached the corner of Seventh Street and East Capitol. Lisa had them drop her off there, nearly demanding it, saying she wasn't so sick and incompetent that she couldn't walk to her apartment.  
  
Sam and Max watched her go and waited until they were sure she was in the building before turning back down East Capitol and heading for the National Airport. He'd left the boys with Josh and Donna, as he and Max had the rest of the family to pick up.  
  
***  
  
4:37 PM  
  
"Jenna!" Bobby Towlhouse called out from the waiting area by Gate Five. "Over here!" He attempted to make it through the surge of people but was unsuccessful.  
  
Hearing him, Jenna gazed around looking for him, finally noticing him and pushing through the crowd to get to him. She hugged him then gave him a quick kiss before someone behind them was knocked into them by three children.  
  
"How's it looking around here, Dad?" one of the two boys, probably twins, though one had bark brown hair and the other's was lighter.  
  
"Can't you guys talk about anything else?" the woman Jenna and Bobby decided must be his wife.  
  
"Seaborn and McShane have dropped in DC and Virgina but we're up in the state of Maryland."  
  
Jenna grabbed Bobby and ducked behind another family. Cover was running low, a lot of people had gone to pick up their luggage.  
  
"What?" Bobby asked.  
  
"That was him," she told him.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Seaborn."  
  
Bobby looked over and, sure enough, saw Sam Seaborn and family. "So? Why are we hidding?"  
  
"Because... want to go to the Seaborn election day party with me?" she asked quickly. "As a date. *Not* a reporter. I'll have to vouch for you because no reporters are allowed. Don't make me a liar."  
  
"Sure!" he said. "I'd love to go. But... why are you asking me now?"  
  
"Because *I* wasn't planning on going but now that yo-"  
  
"Jenna! Jenna Clark!"  
  
The two reporters spun around. "Yes, Senator Seaborn?"  
  
Sam shook his head. "I'm no longer a Senator," he told her. "Why does everyone keep saying I am? But beyond that, you consider my offer?"  
  
"Yes, sir, I have," Jenna half lied. She'd considered it but because of Bobby she'd decided not to make a decision. About now, she wanted to kill Bobby for that. She felt guilty, realizing that anyone else would have decided already whether or not they wanted the job.  
  
"Well, you don't have to make a decision until later," Sam said. "We could use you on the team, though."  
  
The twin boys ran over to their father. "He has a gun!" they exclaimed in unision pointing back at the Secret Service man.  
  
Sam laughed then as an explaination, he told Bobby and Jenna, "They're named after a Secret Service man who died during the Bartlet administration and they decided they want to be just like him and join the Secret Service. They've annoyed every agent they've ever seen."  
  
"Hey, Sam," Mallory Seaborn said. "We're going to go get the kids's stuff."  
  
"Okay, I'm coming," Sam said then reached out his hand. He shook Jenna's and then Bobby's, saying "Nice to meet you" before he and Max ran to catch up with Mallory and the kids.  
  
Bobby laughed once they were gone. "Almost backed you into a corner didn't he?"  
  
Jenna hit him in the chest. "Let's go before he comes back and makes me even more guilty."  
  
*** 


	8. Election Day

A/N: I own none of the mentioned fast food chains or news channels. And Secret Service men *do* dress in kahkis and blue blazers.  
  
Chapter Eight: Election Day  
  
  
  
7:23 AM  
  
Karol McShane's apartment was a mess. She'd folded the couch back up, leaving the bedding inside which stuck out at odd angles. Deryk's dirty clothes were in a pile in the corner, topped by Karol's dirty clothes. Allison Campbell shook her head and walked around cleaning the major messes while Karol began to make breatkfast.  
  
Deryk McShane awoke to the smell of smoke and shouted out, "Fire! Fire"  
  
Scott once again was at the bedroom door with the baseball bat. He saw the trickle of smoke coming from the kitchen, saw Allison cleaning and looked over to Deryk. "It's worse. Karol's cooking."  
  
"I happen to be able to cook very well," Karol retorted as she walked into the living room. "Deryk's just got this thing for burnt scrambled eggs."  
  
Wildman looked at her oddly. "You *are* aware that it is election day, right?"  
  
"Exactly why I'm cooking," Karol told him. "It's good luck to cook for yourself and your family on the day of a big decision."  
  
"Where'd you hear that?"  
  
"My mother used to tell me and Deryk that all the time," she answered. "It takes the stress away."  
  
"Well, I doubt all America is cooking for themselves," Deryk said. "When does Virgina's open their ballots? I'm registered there still."  
  
Scott looked at a paper he held in his hands. "Opens at eight. That's about... forty minutes from now."  
  
"Good, I can rent a car and drive up there," he said. "What about you and Annie and Mrs. C?"  
  
The Texan shook his head. "We're registered in Texas."  
  
"Oh," Deryk said. "We'll, I'm going to get in the shower and let those eggs cool."  
  
He walked into the bedroom and headed for the bathroom. Karol set the good eggs on the table and set Deryk's burnt ones on the counte, placing several strips of bacon on each plate. Rusty looked at them longingly, attracting many a suspicious eye from those seated around the table.  
  
They all ate heartily, everyone giving a strip of bacon to Annie who tried to refuse but relented. And of course, on top of his bowl of food, got a piece of bacon snuck under the table for him by Scott.  
  
After they had all eaten and showered, they headed for the Georgetown Hilton.  
  
***  
  
8:41 AM  
  
"Simon, Donovan, Caleb!" Josh Lyman shouted up the stairs. "You dressed yet?"  
  
The twins were only eight months older than Caleb and the three were pretty close friends even though they saw each other about once or twice a year. And after Caleb's outcry in Connecticut, they were glad for the chance to have them stay over with him. He'd been much more socialable since. It was also probably because he'd said that the kids didn't have to go to school Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday because of the election. Both situations were obviously factors.  
  
"We're coming, Dad!" Caleb called back. "Hang on!"  
  
There was the sound of running from the top floor and down the stairs came Caleb, Donovan and Simon followed closely by Bruce and Katie. They all had backpacks, packed with games and homework. It was going to be a long day and the only time that would really matter would be that night at ten when the ballots closed.  
  
The group jumped into the minivan and Josh and Donna were glad they'd bought it or they'd never have fit five kids in. They stopped at a McDonalds on the way to the Hilton and ate a quick breakfast. It beat making it.  
  
"When are you going to vote, Dad?" Caleb asked. "You are aren't you?"  
  
Josh nodded. "We're going to go vote while you're at the hotel with the others."  
  
"We don't get to come?" Katie asked. "I wanna vote."  
  
"You're just a baby," Bruce said. "You're not old enough."  
  
"I'm not a baby!"  
  
"You're not old enough either, Bruce," Donovan told him.  
  
Simon shook his head. "You hafta be eighteen."  
  
Katie crossed her arms. "But I wanna vote..."  
  
"We're here!" Donovan shouted as they pulled up to the Hilton. Donna and the kids got out and went in while Josh parked.  
  
The kids tossed their stuff in Confrence Room Three which had been reserved for them and went to wander around.  
  
***  
  
1:11 PM  
  
Jenna Clark walked out of the voting area and over to where Bobby was waiting for her. Bobby kissed her and led her out to the car. "When are we supposed to be at this party thing?"  
  
She shrugged. "Anytime after noon."  
  
"Want to get something to eat before we go?"  
  
"We could have eaten already if these LINE WEREN'T SO SLOW!" she shouted the last words for the benifit of the people running the ballots.  
  
Bobby laughed. "Come on," he said. "Burger King, Wendy's or McDonalds?"  
  
"Food will be set out all day," Jenna told him. "Atleast that is what the campaign manager said when she called to remind me about it."  
  
Towlhouse clapped his hands. "Alright!" he shouted. "I get to keep my ten bucks!" He grinned at Jenna. "I've never been to the Georgetown Hilton..."  
  
"It's okay," Jenna said with a shrug. "My mother stayed there once when she came down for my sister's graduation."  
  
The two of them got into the car and drove to the Hilton. There was a door man blocking entrance into the entire bottom floor, checking invitations and such. Jenna handed him hers and vouched for Bobby, a bit conserned about the lack of security. But then, Seaborn wasn't President yet.  
  
"We're the only reporters here..."  
  
"Don't even think about it," Jenna growled. "NO story. Got it?"  
  
"Oh, fine," Bobby whined. "You're no fun."  
  
***  
  
3:51 PM  
  
"You guys vote yet?" Lisa asked Petey and Sean who sat in the back of the cab with her.  
  
"I was the first one in line," Petey said. "It's my first time... but... I guess I shouldn't have camped out there... Some guy gave me his coat and another lady gave me five dollars. I think they think I was homeless."  
  
Sean started laughing. "It's not like it's a movie or something."  
  
"I know," Petey said sheepishly. "But it was great! I felt like I was really getting to imput on the American government."  
  
Lisa shook her head and Sean burst out in a new round of laughter. "How is is possible for someone to be so much for the system?" Lisa asked.  
  
Garrison shrugged. "I dunno. Is it so wrong to think the US works?"  
  
"Georgetown Hilton?" the driver asked.  
  
"Yup," Lisa answered.  
  
"They got some big party going on in there," the driver continued. "Can't get in the entire first floor."  
  
Sean grinned. "We know," he said. "We're going."  
  
It was now the driver's turn to start laughing. "Dressed like that?"  
  
They all looked down at their attire. Sean wore a pair of new blue jeans, a white shirt and a brown leather jacket and Lisa wore blue jeans and red shirt. The only one of the three who had actually gotten a bit dressed up was Petey who wore khaki pants, a white shirt and a blue blazer. In truth, he looked like a Secret Service member just without the glasses. It wasn't like they looked liked they'd come off the street.  
  
"Yeah," Lisa growled. "We are. Got a problem with it?  
  
The driver shut up and dropped them off at the Hilton a few minutes later.  
  
Lisa pulled out some money and paid him the exact amount. "Next time, if you want a tip, don't insult the passengers. Got it?"  
  
He grumbled something and sped off. It was all Lisa could do to restrain herself from picking up a rock and tossing it at his back window. Well... the security cameras and Secret Service members by the door were a factor too. But mostly it was self restraint.  
  
They entered the Hilton, clearly obvious of the suspicious glances coming from the Secret Service men. It was also obvious from the looks of the two in blazers, they were quite angry about Petey's dressing like them.  
  
Sean and Lisa were expecting to see a lot of people dressed up now, due to the driver but were surprised to see that the main ballroom was set up like a football night. There were several couches and several big screen TVs. How they'd afforded them was beyond Lisa.  
  
Sean went straight to the food table. Free food was his biggest weakness. Lisa was still a bit stunned, seeing several Senators in the crowd dressed in blue jeans and sweat shirts. Even Seaborn himself was decked up like he was ready for the game to start.  
  
She left Petey ans Sean to the food and went to sit on one of the couches. Not liking CNN or Fox News, she sat in front of the TV on MSNBC, watching the numbers on the screen, hoping that Seaborn would get a head.  
  
***  
  
4:08 PM  
  
"I told you didn't I?" Josiah "Jed" Bartlet said as he walked up to Sam. "I told you that one day, you'd run."  
  
Sam smiled. "Yes, sir. But I've got to admitt that I didn't listen. I'm as scared as hell and I don't know how this is going to turn out.  
  
"If it makes you feel any better, I voted for you," Bartlet said.  
  
"Now I just need... oh... fifty million otheres to follow suit?"  
  
The former President shook his head. "No, you need a lot more than that."  
  
"Thank you, sir. I feel a lot better," Sam said sarcastically.  
  
Bartlet clapped him on the back. "That's good. You should. You'll win this thing, just don't lose hope."  
  
***  
  
4:32 PM  
  
After making sure Annie was comfortable, Scott walked over and sat on the couch infront of the CNN Headline news TV. Roy Pentabal was awoken as Scott plopped down beside him.  
  
"What? Did he win?" Roy shouted and jumped up.  
  
Scott grinned. "It's only 4:30, Roy. Go back to sleep."  
  
Pentabal shrugged and tilted his head back again. Scott looked at him in disbelief then looked back at the news. Seaborn had been eight down in the polls but from the estimated numbers, it wouldn't seem like he was. He looked over to where Sam was sitting on the couch with his daughter.  
  
It made him wonder if he'd have a daughter soon. They'd decided to wait until they knew if the babies would survive to name them, consequently deciding not to find out their genders to keep from unwittingly going against their decision.  
  
Jody and Mary came over and pushed the sleeping Roy to the side. They both looked to the screen and asked Scott, "How we doing on *this* channel?"  
  
"Fine..." Scott said uncertaintly. "What do you mean on *this* channel?"  
  
"Fox News says we're hopeless at getting Connecticut but CNN says we've got it by the ears," Jody answered.  
  
"These news people really need to talk," Mary said. "They're worse than the FBI and CIA."  
  
"Worse than the Democrats and the Republicans," Ted said, leaning on the back of the couch since there was no room for him to sit.  
  
Scott shook his head. "Let's not go *that* far."  
  
The three Senators sank down in their seats. "When is this going to be over?"  
  
  
  
***  
  
6:28 PM  
  
"Is the waiting generally this extreme?" Donna asked Josh as they sat infront of CNN.  
  
Josh nodded. "Pretty much," he said. "Except with Schumer's second term. I could have cared less who one. I didn't even vote that year."  
  
"Well, I'm sure glad you did this year," Sam Seaborn said from behind them. "Your one measly vote maybe all that is standing between me and the White House."  
  
"Damn." Josh joked, "I *knew* I should have voted for you."  
  
Sam raised his eyebrow. "Want that Chief of Staff job or not? I'm sure I could get Charlie to take it, or maybe even you, Donna."  
  
"Hey, now, let's talk this over..."  
  
Seaborn grinned and then sighed. "How long til this is all over?"  
  
"Ends at 11:00 in most states," Josh told him. "We should have the results estimated results by... Midnight? One? Maybe two?"  
  
"And I was hoping to surprise the kids with a ride to school... oh, well," Donna said.  
  
***  
  
7:01 PM  
  
"Think they'll freak out if we call 'gun'?" Simon whispered to Caleb. They were watching Max and his partner, Gary Michaels, from behind a large potted plant outside the ballroom.  
  
"Wanna find out?" Donovan asked.  
  
Caleb wasn't sure if it was a great idea. "We probably shouldn't..."  
  
"Caleb's right," Simon said. "If Dad wins, we'll have four years to yell 'gun'."  
  
"But he might not get elected," Donovan whined. "Come on."  
  
Though plagued by the fact that they shouldn't do it, Caleb and Simon both agreed that they should see if it worked.  
  
"On the count of three," Donovan said. "One, two, three..."  
  
"GUN!"  
  
"Gun!" the Secret Service men called to each other, one knocking over Sam and AJ then ran to duck Karol behind a TV while another raced over and toppled the chouch where the Senators were sitting. Two more raised their guns, pointing them around looking for the source of the alarm.  
  
In shock, the three boys watched, jaws dropped and eyes open as the scene unfolded.  
  
"Uh-oh..."  
  
"No kidding," Simon said and pulled them into the third confrence room to hide.  
  
The three of them jumped into seats around the table, pretending to do their homework.  
  
"You kids okay?" Bannerman asked as he burst into the room.  
  
They all looked at each other then nodded. "Yeah," Simon said. "Why wouldn't we be?"  
  
The Secret Service man looked at them for a moment as if he wasn't sure he believed them. They waited until they were sure he was gone before bursting out laughing.  
  
They were going to have so much fun once their father got into office.  
  
***  
  
8:57 PM  
  
"Did you know it would be so boring?" Bobby asked Jenna as they sat watching MSNBC beside some sleeping lady who'd already been bored out of her mind.  
  
Jenna groaned. "No. This waiting is killing me."  
  
"Polls close at eleven," the lady beside them said, sitting up. "*Then* the fun starts. Champaign and we can all get drunk together."  
  
She reached out her hand. "Lisa Morris. Maryland and DC campaign manager. Those two over there infront of Fox News are Petey Garrison and Sean Bower. They work for me."  
  
The reporters shook her hand.  
  
"Can I ask you a few-"  
  
Jenna hit Bobby outside the head. "No story!"  
  
He sighed. "I'm Bobby Towlhouse. A reporter."  
  
"Obviously," came Lisa's response.  
  
"She is too," he said.  
  
"I'm Jenna Clark."  
  
Now sitting up, Lisa nodded. "I've seen you two in the Press Room. I did an internship at the White House for a few months. Bobby Towlhouse? My friend Gryffon Bagshaw said you sang for them the other day."  
  
Bobby blushed.  
  
Jenna giggled. "Things sure do get around DC."  
  
Lisa nodded.  
  
The sat watching the news for a few minutes before a very bored Bobby turned to Lisa. "Can we get drunk yet?"  
  
***  
  
11:04 PM  
  
Petey and Sean had volunteered to take phone duty. The eating and the news lost its splendor, even for little Petey, about an hour before. They took many calls of encouragement and several from the campaign headquarters.  
  
"Petey Garrison at the Hilton," he said picking up another line.  
  
"Maryland closed polls at eleven," the young man on the other end said. "We've taken her. By a landslide."  
  
Petey grinned and hollered.  
  
"Hey everyone!" he shouted out to the people in the ballroom. "We've taken Maryland!"  
  
There was a loud round of cheering, everyone jumping up and down, hugging each other and congratulating each other. If they'd taken one of the states they'd thought would never be theirs, who knew what was possible.  
  
***  
  
For the next hour everyone was glued to the TVs. Chairs were pulled out of the confrence rooms and situated around the screens. Big maps marked the progress of the election, California, DC and Virginia unfortunatly gone to Billings.  
  
However, despite California's 54 votes going to Billings, Seaborn brought in Texas and New York which combined to make 65 votes. They weren't out of the running. Not by a long shot.  
  
Florida went to Billings, putting him way ahead. But they bounced back. They were hanging on... if only by a thread.  
  
***  
  
12:00 AM - Wednseday, November 9th of 2015  
  
"Rhode Island just closed polls," Sean told everyone as he looked up and covered the mouthpiece. "They're counting the ballots."  
  
"So it all comes down to this," Sam said as he and several others were gathered around the phone.  
  
They were two electoral votes down and Rhode Island was their last hope. It's four votes would take them ahead by only two, but they'd win.  
  
Sam and Karol stood infront of the TV watching, praying that the state would stand by it's former Senator.  
  
"We should have campaigned there more," Sam was saying. "We should have campaigned there. They're going to vote against us. They're going to say they felt left out. We're not goin to win."  
  
"You will," Bartlet said from beside him. "Don't worry."  
  
"Don't worry? We barely campaigned there at all. We *should* have gone there more. They're out last chance. They're not going to vote for us-"  
  
"Shut up," Karol growled.  
  
"Okay."  
  
They stood there, time taking on no meaning. Even the little kids were quiet, everyone's eyes fixated on a television screen.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the announcer on the screen Sam and Karol were watching said. "We've gotten confirmation. Rhode Island's votes *have* been counted."  
  
Everyone held their breath.  
  
Someone walked over and handed the man a sheet of paper.  
  
"The results are- Well... wait... what is this?" He broke out into a smiled. "We've got a note came in with this... 'We're with you Karol.'" The announcer shook his head and laughed. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the next President of the United States, by these four electoral votes...."  
  
"Is Sam Seaborn."  
  
There was silence as everyone was fixated on their television screen. Then...  
  
"We won," Mallory said. "We won."  
  
"WE WON!"  
  
The entire hotel burst into applause, cheering, shouting, whistling. Outside on the street it would have sounded like an explosion and had the same ground shaking effects. Because, inside that hotel that Wednseday morning the occupants all knew that a new era had just begun.  
  
"I was right to believe in you," Bartlet said to Sam before pushing out of the crowd surrounded the next POTUS.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. President!" he shouted as the older man left.  
  
Jed Bartlet smiled. "Congratulations, President Seaborn."  
  
***  
  
12:11 PM  
  
"Look at that," the bartender said, cleaning a glass as he looked up at the television. "Seaborn won. Who'd a guessed."  
  
"Me," Greg Tymes replied, setting his glass down. "I got fifty bucks waiting for me when I come in tomorrow. Or rather, today."  
  
"You got lucky," Eryk said from beside him.  
  
The bartender chuckled. "Want another, round?"  
  
Greg nodded. "One more," he said and handed him the money. Then he tossed enough for another round on the counter. "Get one of your own and join me and my friend here in a toast."  
  
The man shrugged and got two beers, Eryk still not having finished his third. "What we toasting to?"  
  
"My new boss," Greg answered.  
  
"May he do what Daniels never go to," Eryk said.  
  
"May he undo the wrongs that Schumer did," the man the Communication Directors recognized as Ronald Timmons said from behind them.  
  
The four of them clinked their drinks.  
  
"Its the begining of a new era," Eryk joked.  
  
"Nope," Greg replied. "Just a new Presidency."  
  
***  
  
  
  
A/N: Well, that's the end of it. Of this part anyways. Look for the continuation when we take you Inside the Seaborn Administration. 


End file.
